


knowing

by lornemalvo



Category: Fargo (2014)
Genre: Lornester, M/M, but it's cute, i think, pearls mean to lester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1587269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lornemalvo/pseuds/lornemalvo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lester knew he was loved, even when it was never shown to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	knowing

It wasn't like Lester had been neglected as a child, it was just that he hadn't been given much attention. He was never the favorite child, too mousy and small for his proud parents. What little attention they did give him vanished once his brother was born. But Lester knew they loved him, even if they never expressed it. 

Primary school came and went, Lester being washed along with the club, never acting out or making a scene. The English teacher did favor him, and he excelled in that class. Of course that didn't last long, and soon high school was sitting heavily in his stomach. The bully that terrorized his elementary had turned his attentions towards Lester over the summer, and Lester knew that his new schooling experience would be hell.

It was. Sam pounded on him relentlessly, shoulders popped out of place and various bruises. He decided to buy a notebook, composition and .99 cents at the dollar store down the street, to record each bruise, making sketches of each and writing the date it was received in careful script underneath each tiny drawing. His brother didn't help, making fun of his small size and how often he was beaten up, saying how he was the favorite child and that Lester should never have been born. 

Lester wasn't too bothered by anything that happened to him, be it words or physical actions, instead saying nothing and recording everything in his battered notebook. Even the oil drum incident didn't bother him so much, except for having to walk a few miles home and take more than one shower. His favorite shirt was ruined that day, but he didn't mind. He was just glad he still had his life. 

Pearl came into his life in his second year. She lost a coin toss and had to go on a double date with her friend and boyfriend, Lester's brother, and Lester. They went on the second date because she said he didn't make her want to vomit like all the other boys in high school. She was his first, and coincidentally last, girlfriend. 

He knew she was cheating on him, but Lester didn't know how to break it off, so he stayed. He stayed through all the verbal abuse from both her and Sam, and told her that he loved him, which was true. She stopped saying it after the second year. 

Years came and went, the abuse wavering in intensity with each year. He bought her presents, new shirts and breezy scarves, small tokens of affection that he thought she would appreciate. His actions were acknowledged by a cheap tie, left on his pillow with a orange post-it note saying that it was for him in Pearl's scratchy handwriting. He loved it, even though he knew it was on sale and Pearl didn't put any thought into it. It was one of the first presents he had gotten, despite being 38. 

38 to 40 passed quickly for Lester, Pearl mostly ignoring him except to talk about his brother or when he came home from lunch. She made pea soup for lunch every Wednesday, a grape soda and thick slice of bread waiting for him. He hated pea soup, but he ate it anyways. One day, he couldn't remember the date, he dropped that he liked tomato soup better than pea. Pearl barely spared him a glance, instead talking about Gordo's upcoming birthday. Next Wednesday they had tomato soup, and he knew he loved her, and that she loved him. 

That was his first and last Wednesday with tomato soup, the next one finding him sitting alone, a cup of grape juice in front of him, and a bowl of pea soup. He had found a frozen packet that Pearl stored last month, feeling sentimental and dishing it up. He didn't eat. 

The Wednesday after that, Lorne was in his house once more, sitting in pearls seat. Lester served him tomato soup with grape soda, a thick slice of bread sitting in the rim of the steaming bowl. He had brought him a white shirt to replace the one he stained when they first met. The action made Lester pause in confusion, before he nodded and thanked Lorne. 

Lorne didn't leave, instead taking the spare bedroom. They had their first kiss in Duluth, a year after they had met, and snow surrounding them. After that, Lester was hooked. He wanted all of Lorne's attention, tucking himself into the mans side whenever possible, kissing the slight scar on his forehead, waiting up for him every night until he returned from god knows where, just to say goodnight. 

And Lorne did too. In private, Lorne kissed at Lester's slightly crooked nose, usually only once unless it was a special occasion or they were drunk. He made sure Lester knew he was loved, more so after a six pack. Lester knew, though. He knew that Lorne loved him, even when Lorne disappeared for days on end or wore holes in his carpet from pacing. Every kiss Lester gave was returned, every gift appreciated, and every expression of affection that Lorne could say whispered. 

And Lester knew he was loved. So he wrote it in his cheap composition book on the last page, the one he had kept free for such an occasion.

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any typos! this was whipped up on my ipad, and autocorrect likes to mess with everything. 
> 
> lornester.tumblr.com


End file.
